


The Inevitability of Gravity

by nostalgia



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Babyfic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 12:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgia/pseuds/nostalgia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleven/River babyfic</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As with so many things, it was his fault. He would admit this later, after everything had fallen apart. At the time, though, he laid the blame on circumstance. 

They were on Earth, in Britain, in a Northern industrial town famed for its red-brick university and a surprisingly low crime-rate. They were feeding ducks, or at least trying to feed the ducks while seagulls swooped in to spoil the moment. River laughed as he flapped his arms at the invaders, said it didn't matter as long as the bread got eaten. 

They retired to a park bench by the pond, liberating it from a grey squirrel. The Doctor leaned back to watch the world go by. A small boy chased a ball across the grass, an old woman sat on another bench eating strawberries. It was somewhat idyllic.

His gaze came to rest on a heavily-pregnant woman with a pushchair. She was young, with a passing resemblance to an old friend. He wondered if the woman had a partner, if he or she was good with children, if there was a supportive extended family. The Doctor liked to daydream about domesticity, but he knew that the reality could be harsh. He invented a happy life for the woman, culminating in her death climbing a mountain at the age of seventy-three. 

He turned to say something and saw that River was looking at the woman as well, with something strange in her eyes. He couldn't quite place it, it seemed to oscillate between pity and envy and back again as he watched. 

“Should we have children?” he asked, surprising himself. 

“Don't be ridiculous,” said River automatically without turning her head or so much as blinking.

Usually that would have been the end of it. It ought to have been the end of it, but the Doctor was in one of those occasional moods where he just had to _push_ things. “What's ridiculous about it?”

“Doctor,” she said – she always called him Doctor when she was explaining the obvious or telling him off - “we're hardly in a position to be starting a family. We couldn't take care of a _hamster_ with our lifestyle.”

“So? People change their lifestyles all the time.” He'd remembered, then, that he'd been peacefully content in one place for years, back when he was younger. 

“I don't want to,” said River. “I like our lifestyle. Meeting new people, seeing new places.”

“Running away from monsters, trying to avoid being killed.”

“Don't pretend you don't enjoy it,” she said, a matronly reproach in her voice. 

“I just thought... it might be nice,” he finished, somewhat pathetically.

“You're being wistful again,” said River. “Broody.” 

“Don't you ever get like that?” he asked, stepping into unfamiliar territory with all the caution of a Panzer tank. 

“We don't live like that,” said River, simply. “We can't have everything.”

Which, again, should have been the end of it. It almost was. The Doctor curled his hand around River's. “Okay,” he said. 

 

 

Shortly after that, going by the basic facts of timing, was when they stopped being careful. There had always been a certain unpredictability to their sex life, a spontaneity that grew from being unsure when they'd next see each other. 

He pushed himself up over her, flustered and flushed. “Wait,” he said. “I don't have anything.”

“We'll risk it,” she said, like it didn't matter. 

He didn't argue with her, and that wasn't like him at all. He'd spent centuries strenuously avoiding the patter of little time-feet, but this time he nodded, kissed her, decided that nothing was going to happen. Nothing _did_ happen, that time. 

 

“Are you trying to tell us something?” asked Amy. 

The Doctor looked up from the book he'd been idly reading as he waited for his tea to arrive. “Pardon?”

Amy took the book from him and showed him the cover. “ _101 Baby Names and Their Meanings_.”

“You left it on the table, I thought I was supposed to read it and offer opinions. I was thinking Hamish for a boy.”

Amy batted his arm with the book and then dropped it onto the coffee table. She passed him a steaming mug of tea and sat down next to him on the sofa. “We're not calling him Hamish. Hamish and Melody. They don't go together.” She turned her head towards the kitchen. “He wants to call the baby Hamish,” she called out. 

Rory looked round the door-frame into the sitting-room. “No,” he said, succinctly. 

“Hamish Pond,” said the Doctor defiantly. “I think it's a good name.” He nudged Amy with his elbow. “You could always name it after me.”

“Definitely not,” came the answer from the kitchen. 

“I think you should have priority,” the Doctor told Amy. “You're the one who has to gestate it.”

“Rory and I believe in making important decisions _together_ ,” said Amy.

Rory appeared carrying a tray of sandwiches. “In theory at least,” he said. He set the plate on the table and sat down in the armchair nearest the television. “How's River?”

“Fine,” said the Doctor.

Amy and Rory looked at him for a while, until Amy said “You have to tell us more than that. We're her parents, remember.”

“She hasn't turned into an alligator, if that's what you're worried about.”

“Why would we be worried about that?” asked Rory. 

“No reason,” said the Doctor as vaguely as possible. 

Amy glanced at her husband and then looked back at the Doctor. “Okay,” she said, “obviously some sort of reptile-related adventure we didn't hear about.”

“Do you enjoy this?” the Doctor asked suddenly. “All this... domesticity?”

“It's a change of pace,” said Amy. “But yes, we do. You're not dragging us off anywhere again, don't go getting any ideas.”

“So you're happy?”

“Very,” they said together. 

 

River slapped him.

“Something I haven't done yet?” he asked, rubbing his cheek. 

“Quite the opposite.”

“I've only just got here, I can't see what I can have done to upset you.”

She picked up a holdall from under her bed and handed it to him. “I'll be staying with you for a while.”

He frowned at her. “You're angry but you want to stay over? Sorry, did I miss something?”

“We're having a baby,” said River, without preamble. 

The Doctor looked down. He prodded her abdomen gently then looked questioningly at her.

“Yes,” said River, “that sort of baby. I'm staying with you until I decide whether I want it. Prison isn't really the best place for either option.”

The Doctor realised that he wasn't in the least bit surprised.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes decide whether to have a baby.

River flicked through her diary. “So, where are we up to?”

The Doctor plucked the diary from her hands and tossed it over his shoulder. “Doesn't matter.”

“It _always_ matters!”

“What's important is what we do from now on,” he said. “Let's start with the question of are we having a baby or not?”

“I can think of a dozen reasons why we shouldn't, and that's just off the top of my head.”

“So that's settled, then,” said the Doctor. 

“I... I suppose,” said River.

He stepped towards her. “You don't sound very sure.”

River turned from him and went to sit on the crash-seat. “I gave up a lot of things to be with you,” she said. “I never thought something like this would even be an option.”

He crouched down in front of her and took her hands in his. “You can have anything you want, River. Anything.”

She nodded soberly. “I know what this means to you.”

He kissed the back of her hand. “You don't, but that shouldn't affect your decision.”

“What do you mean I don't?” she asked sharply.

The Doctor let go of her hands and stood up. He ran a hand through his hair. “You're thinking that I'd do anything to have a family again.”

“Wouldn't you?”

“I made a choice of my own, a long time ago. I'm the last of my kind, that's not a burden to be placed on an innocent.”

“So you don't want it,” she said, nodding slowly.

“I didn't say that.”

“But you -”

“Everyone leaves, River. Everyone dies. I don't want to outlive another child. I don't want to leave someone alone in the universe with nobody to turn to for affection.”

“You're thinking awfully far ahead.”

“I have to. It comes with the territory.” He rubbed the back of his neck and went on. “And even before that. I'm the Oncoming Storm, the Lonely God, am I really capable of being a parent any more?” He looked up at the ceiling. “And yet...”

“And yet?”

“And yet I'm already working out what names go well with Song.” He looked at her steadily. “I really don't know, River. I have no idea how I want this to end.”

“So it's up to me.”

“I'm sorry.”

River stood. “It's always struck me that selfish people have children. Who else even cares if we have a baby? And what sort of life could we give to a child? Always moving on, never seeing the same people twice. I'm supposed to be in prison and you're meant to be dead.”

“We'd have to be appallingly selfish to have this baby, is what you're saying?”

“Absolutely.”

 

“We're going to have a baby,” said the Doctor. He looked carefully at Amy and Rory. “Is one of you going to faint?”

“No, I don't think so,” said Rory. 

The Doctor sniffed. “Oh.”

River looked at her parents. “He was so sure one of you would just fall over when we told you.”

“It's what happens in films!”

“Are you sure he's old enough to have kids?” Amy asked her daughter.

“But it means we've had sex!” the Doctor protested. “Surely that's enough for a _little_ faint?”

“We sort of assumed,” said Rory. 

“Oh.” The Doctor sat back on the sofa, defeated.

“Is it going to be all... Time Lordy?” asked Amy.

“No idea,” said River. “To be honest we haven't thought much beyond telling you two.”

Amy nodded. “I'm going to be a grandmother. Oh God, I just turned thirty last month!”

“Fainting might help,” suggested the Doctor.

“Nobody is going to be fainting,” said Rory. “We're approaching this as calm, rational adults.” He glanced at the Doctor. “And whatever you are.”

“Do I have to learn to knit?” asked Amy. “I mean, if I'm going to be a granny.” She had a sudden thought. “You're not going to make it wear tweed, are you?”

“Not unless he wants me to kill him again,” said River calmly. 

“Are you going to raise it in the TARDIS?” asked Rory. 

“Whyever not?” asked the Doctor.

“Because... it's the TARDIS?”

“She's great with children! She can whip up a nice nursery in no time.” He looked around the room with an expression of mild disdain. “I don't think I could cope with a house that was smaller on the inside.”

“Our house is lovely,” said Amy.

The Doctor opened his mouth to elaborate, but was cut off by the sizzling hiss of a transmat beam.


	3. Chapter 3

“We're in space,” said River, already alert as the Doctor woke up.

“Are you all right?” he asked, getting up quickly and looking to her with concern.

“Yes, I think so.”

Part of the wall slid open and a woman in long green robes glided into the the room. She bowed to them. “We welcome the Perfect One. We are honoured to be in the Divine Presence.”

The Doctor straightened his bow-tie and grinned modestly. “Thanks, it's always nice to be honoured.”

River shook her head. “I hardly think she means you, dear.”

“Oh,” he said, disappointed.

The woman in the doorway bowed again. “The Guardians of the Perfect One are also welcomed.”

The Doctor thought on that for a moment and looked at River. “Blimey, not even born yet and our baby's famous.”

The woman in green stepped into the room. “I am Sister Hope, of the Order of Harmonious Being. I'm sure you've heard of us.”

“Um,” said the Doctor, not wanting to seem rude.

“I apologise for the manner of your arrival, but we were excited to find you and I'm afraid we forgot to make contact before bringing you here.”

“Of course,” said River. “Now, I know we've just met but the combination of your transmat and the Perfect One means I'm about to throw up, so if you have a bucket handy...”

 

The Doctor peered over Sister Hope's shoulder at the read-out on the monitor. They'd been joined in the medical bay by Brother Charity, who seemed to be equally in awe of the gestating foetus.

Sister Hope read from the screen. “A girl, with two hearts.” She looked at her comrade. “Just as the scriptures foretold.”

Brother Charity nodded and smiled at River. “We are truly blessed.”

River had recovered from her earlier bout of sickness. “I'm afraid I haven't kept up with recent advances in theology. What, exactly, is my daughter to you?”

“The Perfect One was chosen by the gods to lead our people – all people – to a new age of peace and enlightenment.”

“Oh, is that all?” River patted her abdomen. “Never mind, darling, we love you anyway.”

“Peace and enlightenment doesn't sound too difficult,” said the Doctor. “But we will have to make sure she gets a proper education first.” He noticed Sister Hope's expression. “Sorry, are we taking this too lightly?”

She shook her head. “We all cope with greatness in different ways. This must be quite overwhelming for you.”

“Slightly,” said the Doctor. “I mean, I was just visiting the in-laws and suddenly I'm in space and my daughter's going to bring peace and handbags to the universe.”

“Enlightenment,” corrected River.

The Doctor waved a hand. “That's what I meant to say. I don't know why I said handbags.”

“Would you like a tour of the ship?” asked Brother Charity. “We were hoping you'd want to stay here until the Perfect One is born. I assure you we can meet all your needs.”

“It's a big commitment,” said the Doctor. “We've only just met and you want us to move in with you?”

He had a really bad feeling about this.

 

The Doctor followed Brother Charity down seemingly endless identical corridors. 

“May I ask,” said the monk suddenly, “if the proper ceremony was performed?”

“The proper..?”

“Ceremony. Prior to the conception.”

The Doctor frowned. “Isn't that a bit personal?”

“The astrological charts do require some information regarding the circumstances of conception.”

“In the TARDIS. In the library by the swimming pool. With handcuffs.”

Brother Charity stopped walking and turned to look at the Doctor. “Pardon?”

“It's not like a keep a diary of our intimate moments,” said the Doctor. “Just, you know, assume it happened in the usual way and that River was extremely satisfied with my performance.” He thought for a moment. “Do I get a medal or something?”

“If you like?”

“So, my old friend,” said the Doctor, putting an arm round the monk's shoulders, “tell me more about this Perfect One.”

 

River lay back on the satin sheets. “I could get used to this,” she said as the Doctor entered the room.

“We're leaving,” he said.

“I'm booked in for a massage in half an hour.”

The Doctor sat on the edge of the bed. “I had a little discussion with Brother Charity. This thing about the age of peace and enlightenment...”

“Is ridiculous, I know, but they've been quite friendly apart from the kidnapping bit at the beginning. And they did apologise for that.”

“The Perfect One,” said the Doctor, “is due to be sacrificed on her 15th birthday to allow the gods to arrive via some mythical process that did I mention involves the Harmonious Siblings killing our daughter?”

River sat up. “We're leaving.”

 

They made their way towards the transmat room as silently as possible. Occasionally they'd run into one of the Order of Harmonious Being, but nobody made any effort to stop them.

“Do they think we're just going for a walk?” asked the Doctor.

River shook her head. “They know what we're doing, but they won't risk harming their precious sacrifice.” She pulled the Doctor closer. “Stick close to me, I don't want them to kill you.”

“You said -”

“Yes, and you've done your bit so now you're expendable.”

When they reached the transmat room Sister Hope was waiting for them. “Please,” she said, “you don't understand the implications.”

“Oh, we understand them perfectly,” said River, pushing past her.

“You can run now,” said the nun, “but you can't run forever. We'll find you. The Perfect One will return to us, even if both of you have to die first.”

“Oh, go and polish your halo,” said River. “And then you might want to try sticking it up your -”

The transmat beam cut her off in mid-sentence.

 

“They'll keep looking for us,” said River when they were back on the TARDIS. 

“They won't find us,” said the Doctor, pulling an old suit from a cupboard and searching the pockets.

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“We're going to hide. Ah!” He pulled a mobile phone from a trouser pocket and dropped the clothing on the floor. “Just a quick phone call.” He pressed a few buttons, swore at the phone, and then put it to his ear as it started to ring. “Martha, it's me. What do you mean, 'me who'? Oh. I regenerated. Yes. Look, I need a favour or two...”


	4. Chapter 4

“Is this what all houses are like?” asked the Doctor when they'd looked round.

“It's the best we could do at such short notice,” said Martha apologetically.

“It's lovely,” said River, diplomatically.

Martha handed them a pair of folders. “That's the information for John and Verity Smith. Identification and back-stories.”

The Doctor flicked through his folder quickly. “Ooh, I've got a degree in history!”

“Should be enough to get you a job, but be careful not to go attracting any attention. You're undercover, remember?

“I can be anonymous.”

Martha looked him up and down. “Yeah, you might want to lose the bow-tie in that case.” She raised her hands when he opened his mouth to protest. “Just a suggestion.”

“He's a bit sensitive about that,” said River. 

Martha nodded. “You're sure you don't want some security?”

“People would notice all the soldiers hanging about the place,” said the Doctor. 

“We could be discreet,” said Martha. “We _are_ a top secret organisation, you know.”

“I've _seen_ UNIT aim for discreet. It usually ends with something getting blown up.”

“A lot's changed since the '70s,” said Martha. She frowned. “Or was it the '80s?”

“I can never remember,” said the Doctor with a shrug. “I tried not to pay much attention to things like that.”

“Right,” said Martha. She hugged the Doctor and then kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck, and you know my number if you need me.”

“Thank you,” said the Doctor. “For everything.”

“Don't mention it. Oh, and don't call me at three in the morning to say you've tied your shoelaces together again.”

“I only did that _once_!”

 

They spent the evening unpacking boxes. With the TARDIS safely under lock and key at UNIT HQ the Doctor felt relatively sure that nothing would happen to her, but he couldn't help worrying a bit anyway. 

With the house slightly more welcoming they went to bed early and held hands under the covers in the dark. 

“We could be here for a very long time,” said River. 

“Nothing we can't handle,” said the Doctor with false confidence. 

“It won't be easy, you know,” she went on. “We'll have all sorts of problems. What about when she starts school? How do we explain the extra heart?”

“We'll say it's a rare birth-defect.”

“That's a bit unlikely.”

“Then we'll say she's half-octopus.” The Doctor turned his head to look at River. “Didn't you tell me off for thinking too far ahead?”

“I just want to be sure you won't disappear in the night to go exploring some lost galaxy.”

“I won't,” he assured her, tightening his grip on her hand. 

River bit her lip. “There's something I want to ask you.”

“Anything.”

“Tell me about your children.” 

The Doctor stared up at the ceiling for a while. Then he said “Okay.” He pulled himself up into a sitting position and rested his hand on River's swollen belly. “Once upon a time...”

 

He cracked an egg into the frying-pan and whistled a tune that was popular three decades in the future. 

“Can I smell bacon?”

He turned to see River standing in the doorway in her nightdress. “It was a surprise. You've ruined it now. I was going to make you breakfast-in-bed.”

“Hmm,” said River, “bored already?”

“I was doing it to show my affection. How's Amelia?”

“Amelia?” She touched her abdomen. “Aren't we supposed to discuss names _together_?”

“Amelia's a great name!

“It is,” she said, smiling. “Amelia Song. Sounds like a heroine from a pulp novel.”

“The greatest novel ever written,” he said.

River sat down at the kitchen table as the Doctor slid the bacon and eggs onto two plates. “Another day dawns in sunny... where are we again?”

“Wales, I think. I thought it might be safer if I wasn't sure myself.” He placed the plates on the table and sat down across from her.

“Sunny wherever, then.” River picked up her fork and prodded at her bacon. “This is such a change from prison.” She tilted her head. “Should I have left a note?”

“'Dear Prison, have run off to have a baby with the man I murdered'?”

“Yes, I suppose that would sound a bit odd.” She cut into her breakfast. “So here we are.”

“Here we are,” the Doctor agreed.

“It's a bit more... domestic than I'd expected my life to be.”

“It's just until she's old enough to take care of herself. That shouldn't be more than a couple of decades.” He looked at her carefully across the table. “This is the safest way for everyone.”

“I suppose I'll just have to get used to safety then,” said River. 

The Doctor nodded. “If you get bored you can always run off with the postman.”

“I'll bear that in mind.”

 

The Doctor stepped back to admire his handiwork. “What do you think?”

River looked around the newly-painted room. “Blue _and_ pink?”

“I don't want her being influenced by cultural norms until she's at least old enough to talk back. Do you think there should be some yellow as well?”

“I think two colours is more than enough for one baby.” She kissed his cheek. “It's fine.”

The doorbell rang. 

“That might be the postman,” said the Doctor, setting down his paintbrush on a paint-splattered sheet.

“Oh, the love of my life?”

“I'll tell him you're busy.” The Doctor set off down the stairs with a smile on his face. 

He opened the door ready to ask where the nearest postbox was.

“Hello, Doctor,” said the Master.


	5. Chapter 5

The Doctor found himself in an office overlooking the floor of an abandoned factory. He was tied to a chair with the Master sitting behind a desk playing with a Newton's Cradle.

“Where's River?”

“Your girlfriend?” asked the Master.

“My wife,” 

The Master smiled pityingly. “Oh, Doctor, it's worse than I thought.” He stood up and moved to sit on the edge of the desk nearest the Doctor. “Don't worry, I'm here to help.”

“Where is she?” the Doctor asked again, trying to control his feelings.

“Safe. For now.”

“If you so much as break one of her nails, I'll...”

“You'll what? Kill me? I really don't think so, Doctor. You see, there's a story about a boy who cried that he'd seen a wolf, and -”

“What do you want?” asked the Doctor, checking the strength of his bonds.

The Master touched his own chest. “I just want us to be a family,” he said with an insincere look of affection. He jumped off the desk and moved behind the Doctor. “I'm going to untie you. I know you won't run.”

The Doctor sat still as the Master freed him, looking around the room to note the possible exits and the likelihood of the Master having some sort of back-up.

The Master appeared in front of him again and sat back down behind the desk. “Now we can talk like adults. So. You got married. How could you?”

“She was going to destroy the universe.”

“Hmm,” said the Master. “That never worked when I tried it.”

The Doctor shrugged. “It's passé when you do it.”

“And then, judging by her appearance, you knocked her up.” He leaned forwards. “Did you 'make love'? Was it beautiful? Did the stars weep?”

“Does it matter?”

“Actually, it does. It matters a lot. Because it leaves me with a problem. How can I be expected to leave _you_ in charge of the last Time Lord? Just think what you'd teach that child. All that nonsense about love and understanding.”

“Better than five hundred ways to fail to take over a planet.”

The Master slapped his hand down on the desk. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Oh, no,” said the Master, “those days are over. I'm turning over a new leaf. I have to. I have to make sure I'm a good father to our child.”

“ _Our_ child? Are you asking me to marry you?” The Doctor stared at him, incredulous.

“We don't need a piece of paper to prove our commitment, Doctor.” He swivelled his chair back and forth. “You know, back on the Valiant – in the good old days – I did consider getting Lucy pregnant so that you and I could have a family. I had no idea you had similar thoughts!”

“Trust me,” said the Doctor, “you were the last person on my mind.”

“She's quite pretty, your wife. Nice breasts. It's a shame I'll probably have to kill her once the baby's born. Oh, should we let her breastfeed for a bit? I heard that's supposed to be good for antibodies.”

“Where is she?”

“I told you, she's safe. So,” he continued, “what do you think of the plan? You and me, baby, a nice wholesome family.”

“I think it's the most absurd idea you've ever had. And that's saying a lot.”

“We have Gallifrey to think of,” said the Master seriously.

“Since when did you care about Gallifrey?”

“Since I was left to take care of its legacy. Obviously you're not to be trusted with making Time Lords look good. So it's up to me.” He smiled. 

“This is insane,” said the Doctor. 

“And most of all, I'll keep our child safe. Do you have any idea how many people have been looking for her? How many of those want to kill her for one reason or another? I won't let that happen.” He opened a drawer on his side of the desk and produced a gun. “See?”

The Doctor reached forwards and took the gun. The Master didn't try to stop him. 

“You'd kill people? To keep her safe?” asked the Doctor, examining the gun.

The Master nodded. “Sometimes you need me to do the things you're not capable of.”

The Doctor looked up at him. “What am I not capable of?”

The Master shrugged. “Whatever needs to be done.”

The Doctor raised the gun. “I could shoot you right now. We'd be out of the building by the time you regenerated.”

“You wouldn't do it,” said the Master confidently. “Some things are just beyond you.”

“Try me.”

 

The Doctor kissed his daughter on the forehead and then handed the basket to the woman in black. 

“No records,” he said. “She has to be untraceable.”

“Of course. Even I won't know where she is.”

“Good. There will be occasional quite large donations to the Sisterhood of Tenderest Mercy. I don't want those to be traced either.”

The nun in the black dress nodded. “Are you quite sure -”

“Yes.”

She gripped the basket tightly. “I promise you, she will be loved.”

“She already is.”

 

“You've done this before,” said River as they walked back to the TARDIS.

“Yes.”

“When does it stop? The pain?”

He looked at her. He wanted to lie but he owed her the truth. “It doesn't,” he said.

She nodded and blinked wet eyes. “It's all we could have done.”

“Yes,” said the Doctor. He took River's hand as they walked away from their daughter's future.


End file.
